


Prison life

by NYWCgirl



Category: White Collar
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NYWCgirl/pseuds/NYWCgirl
Summary: Peter and Neal are discharged from the hospital and need to go forward after he events of the riot.





	Prison life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pechika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pechika/gifts).



> This story sets in the same verse as The Riot and can be read a s a sequel. (http://nywcgirl.livejournal.com/99792.html or http://archiveofourown.org/works/8726407).  
> It fills the ‘accept injury to protect someone’ square on my H/C Bingo card and is written as a fandom stocking filler for Pipilj.

The bell chimes and Neal slowly gets up to answer it.

“Peter, Elizabeth, welcome.”

“Good to see you Neal.”

“Please, come in.”

Peter and Elizabeth enter Neal´s place for the very first time. It is a cozy home, a bit eclectic, but warm. Elizabeth hands Neal a cake transporter. He raises his eyebrows.

“It is Cherry pie. Peter told me it is your favorite.”

Neal smiles. “Yes it is, thank you. I always knew I told Peter too much.” Neal mumbles and Elizabeth looks a bit confused.

“Come in, Coffee?”

“Not for me, thanks. I have an appointment. I will pick Peter up when I am done.”

“OK.’ Neal says a bit awkwardly.

“Bye hon.” Peter gives his wife a quick peck on the cheek.

Elizabeth leaves and Peter sits down in the couch.

“So, how are things going?”

“Good”. Neal answers.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I quit the correctional facility. I am no longer a CO.”

Peter stays quiet and studies Neal´s living room. There are a lot of books on art and history. No pictures at all. Now that Peter studies the space better, he can´t find any personal items, nothing. He realizes it must be Neal protecting himself. CO´s can´t afford to let inmates know personal details about them. Inmates are known to use such details against them. It must have effected Neal´s private life as well.

“So what do you do nowadays?” Peter continues.

“I retired with a full pension, being injured in the line of duty and all. So I decided to do what I always wanted to do, paint.”

“I didn´t know you are an artist.”

“I guess there are a lot of things you don´t know about me. Same as I don´t know you, special agent Peter Burke?” Neal gives him a forced smile.

“You are absolutely right. So let´s get some things straight. I´ll start.”

Neal nods and gestures to sit down.

“You know I am an FBI-agent. I was send undercover to infiltrate a gang from the inside. As you are aware, my sister is actually my wife Elizabeth, but you knew that already. My girlfriend Lethisia, is actual one of my agents, Diana Berrigan. What are you smiling?”

“I always thought you were an ill-matched couple.”

“Yeah. Well…”

“You were a model prisoner. I should have known it was too good to be true.”

“You never questioned me?”

“Not really, you played a convincing inmate.”

Peter looks proud. It is a compliment to his ability to go undercover. The FBI had worked months on the assignment.

“You want coffee with that pie?”

“Please.”

Neal slowly gets up.

“How is therapy going?”

“Good, the doctors are optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I`m fine.”

“Neal, you were seriously injured. You were shot in the chest.”

“I know Peter, I was there, remember. But you saved my life during the riot and I am grateful for that.”

“You did the same for me by pushing me out of the line of fire. I want to thank you for that.”

“You are welcome.’

Neal puts on the kettle and prepares the French press. While he waits for the water to boil, he cuts the pie and hands Peter a plate. Peter gets up to help with the tray with coffee. When they sit back down, Neal takes a bite of the cherry pie and moans.

“This is delicious. Jeez Peter, how do you stay in shape with a wife who bakes this good?”

Peter laughs.

“I run a lot with my dog.”

“Of course you have a dog.” Neal rolls his eyes.

“Any pets?”

“No, It wouldn´t be fair with my former work hours.”

“What made you want to become a CO?”

“I wanted to be a first responder, and as you saw, you don´t get closer to being one as a CO.”

“Yeah, you have the right mental stability. I always liked you, sorry, like you. You were always decent, friendly, calm and above all, fair.”

“Thanks, and what about you, FBI?”

“I studied math and law and was recruited by the FBI out of university. Went to Quantico, graduated and went to work for Violent Crimes, and the rest is history.”

“What did you think when you were first brought in?”

Peter studies Neal before speaking.

“I´ll be honest. It was the most terrifying thing I have ever done and that includes a shoot-out with the Russian mob.”

Neal chuckles.

“We hear that all the time. Even from the big shots.”

Peter thinks back and starts telling.

 

 

**_Flash-back_ **

 

After the sentencing, the Marshalls restrain me and I am placed in the holding cell of the court house until the bus left.

We arrive at Riker´s in the last shift of that day. I am let in and asked questions about my health. One of the CO´s hands me my uniform and I am told to put all my personal belongings on the table. Most things are recorded and filed away. I am then asked to wait outside for my turn for a full body search. I am not a shy guy but it is humiliating to stand naked in front of two CO´s, manipulating your various body orifices. When he faces away from them one of them tells him to bend forward and spread his ass cheeks. A lewd remark is made, but Peter knows better than to respond.

“Squad.”

“Cough”

“Again”

“OK, you can get dressed in the uniform. You clothes will be filed with the rest of your personal belongings.”

Peter has to wait again in front of the doctor´s office. About an hour later, he is led in for his medical checkup which takes five minutes.

The CO asks him if he needs to make a phone call to his family.

“Yes, please.”

“There is a phone, please keep it short, OK?”

“Yes sir.”

Peter makes a quick call to tell that he is alright and he will call again soon.

“Your ID number is 4708, remember this.”

“Yes sir, 4708.”

“Do you want to shower?”

“Can I?”

“Yes, you have five minutes.”

Peter takes a quick shower, relieved that he is alone in the shower room, and then gets dressed again. A CO is waiting for him to take him to his cell.

“4708, this is your cell, put your stuff inside and come meet the CO´s that will be taking care of you. Remember, they are here for your protection, threat them with respect.”

“Yes sir.”

“Step in line, let´s go.”

Peter follows the other men to wing C. Four CO´s are waiting for them. They do a roll call and explain the rules of the wing.

Two CO´s walk back to the control room. A large African American CO and a slim Caucasian one stay with the other men. The last has startling blue eyes that remind him of Elizabeth.

“4708?”

“I´m sorry sir, I…”

“”No problem, but next time, pay attention, OK? It could save your life. This isn´t a country club, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“You are in this cell. Let´s go.”

Peter walks into the cell and puts his stuff down on the bed.

“There is a list on the table where you should put your belongings. We will check this on a regular basis. Take care of your cell and personal hygiene and we will get along just fine.”

“Yes sir.”

The CO turns to leave the cell.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“What do I call you?”

The CO studies him for a moment.

“You can call me Neal, my colleague is called Bobby.”

“Thanks sir, my name is Peter.”

Neal studies him again and nods, before leaving the cell.

“You will be alright, Peter.”

The door slams shut behind the guard. Peter studies his cell, it is bland, sterile looking. He shakes himself and reads the note Neal told him about and starts organizing his stuff on the shelf.

Peter is tired. The penned-up stress is trickling away and leaving him sleepy. He didn´t know what to expect on his first day, expect for the humiliating body cavity search, it wasn´t that bad. The two guards that are responsible for him seem OK and decent guys.

He startles awake when the lid in the door is opened.

“Supper is served.”

Peter quickly gets up and accepts his tray. He walks to the table and puts the tray down. The stew and mashed potatoes look unappealing but Peter knows he needs the calories.

When he takes the first bite, he has to admit it tastes better than it looks. It isn´t even half bad. He washes everything down with the bottled water that accompanied the food.

When he finishes, he lies down on his cot. He is wondering when he will receive the books he brought. The lid is opened again and Peter gets up and takes the tray to the door. It is taken without a word and Peter lies down again. He needs to use the bathroom and is glad the cell has a closed door.

At half past nine it´s lights out in the cells. There is still some light filtering in through the small window, so it is not completely dark. Peter tries to get comfortable on the flimsy matrass. The blanket is scratchy, but Peter does his best to fall asleep.

 

* *  *

 

The next morning at six thirty the lights are turned on and Peter gets up to use the toilet. He was explained yesterday that he would have fifteen minutes to make his bed and take care of his personal hygiene.

At six forty five the guards walk past the cells. Peter expects breakfast, but nothing happens. He waits for what feels like forever, but in reality is just half an hour. The lid opens again and the breakfast tray is pushed in. On it is a bowl of oatmeal, a cup of coffee and an apple.

Peter first drinks the coffee while it is still sort of hot. He then eats the bland oatmeal and apple. Twenty minutes later the tray is collected again.

Peter can hear Neal shout “Roll call.”

Doors are opened and closed and then Peter´s door opens.

“Get up, face the wall, hands on the wall.” Neal calls out to him.

He is taken aback, but quickly gets up and takes the position. He is roughly patted down, before they leave the cell again. He is left confused. What was that all about?

Sometime later, Bobby comes to escort Peter for an intake meeting. He is led into a room. Neal is already present and three more people that introduced themselves. They are here to determine if he is willing to work, get an education.

“I´m willing to work and go to school.”

“After reviewing your file, we suggest you follow CSCP.”

Peter has no idea what that means so he tells them so.

”CSCP stands for Cognitive Self Change Program, we believe this program could be beneficial for you.”

“OK. Can I also get some education?”

“Your files states that you already have a high school diploma.”

“That is correct ma´am. I would like to get a college degree.”

“OK, any idea in what?”

“Yes, I would like to follow history.”

Peter can see Neal looks up in surprise.”

“We will see what we can do. The college classes are done in corporation with our local college. We will let you know. In the meantime, are you willing to work?” another person asks.

“Yes sir.”, anything to get out of that cell. Peter has been here one day and it is already getting claustrophobic.

“I have a position in the cleaning crew.”

“I´m good in woodworking. Any chance for work in that area?”

“I will check, for now you can start in the cleaning crew.”

“Thanks sir.”

“That will be all. Good luck.”

Neal walks up to him and gestures to walk in front of him. They walk back to the cells. When they arrive, Peter addresses Neal.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What happened this morning? I got a feeling you were irritated.”

Neal takes a moment to think what Peter is talking about.

“Oh that, it was nothing personal, but if we tell you to do something, do it instantly, without hesitation. If you follow orders immediately, we know you are not planning something.”

Peter nods, he understands the logic behind it.

“I´ll remember.”

Neal opens the door.

“You’re air time is this afternoon. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

Peter walks into the cell and waits until the door closes behind him. He sits down and lets the boredom wash over him.

Sometime later Peter can hear the other prisoners who go to school or work arrive back in the block. Good, that means it is almost noon and lunchtime. And like clockwork, the shot in the door opens and the tray is pushed in.

 

* *  *

 

Weeks pass and Peter has fully adapted to prison life. Since there is no history course at the moment, Peter decided to keep the job in the cleaning crew. It allows him to move around in his ward. Some prisoners have challenged Peter, but he has proven he isn´t a cell warrior.

Yesterday he delivered his first kite and Peter is more relaxed. He has proven to the big shots he can be trusted.

He is mopping the corridor when he can see a CO approaching.

“Fire on the line.” He whispers.

He can hear the inmate in the cell quickly stash something away. The CO walks past him and Peter continues his mopping.

“Thanks man. That Hernandez is a bug.”

Peter just nods and continues his work. When he is almost done, the guard walks up to him.

“Inmate 4708, step in.”

Peter stops and takes the supposed stance. Hernandez walks up to him and stops when he stands behind Peter. The guy gives him the creeps.

“Did you think I wouldn´t know you warned the other inmates?”

“No sir.”

Peter expects some insult or worse, but the CO´s radio comes to life and he walks away without saying anything. Peter decides it best to finish his work.”

 

* *  *

 

‘I would have thought prison would be about violence and trying not to get killed or raped, it turned out it was about dealing with the boredom. I was glad I was able to get the cleaning job.’

Neal nods, ‘yeah, I should have known something was going on, but I just expected you were well connected. Never occurred to me you were well connected with the good side.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Normally you don´t get a job that soon after you arrived. You need to prove yourself before you are rewarded a job. You want a beer? I guess you won´t be driving home, so…’

‘Yeah sure, thanks.’

Neal slowly gets up and walks to the kitchen, when he comes down, he puts a beer down and a bowl with chips.

‘So, painting?’ Peter points his head to the easel that has a half finished painting on it.

‘Yeah, I always loved to draw, but since I left the hospital, my therapist told me I needed to do something with it. So I decided to try it out and it turns out it is something I really enjoy doing.’

‘Well, they look fantastic. You should sell them.’

‘Funny you should say. I bumped into a lady the other day in a store when I was buying paints and she told me to show some of my work, so I guess I will be doing that. Who knows what will come of it.

When the doorbell interrupts the two men, Peter announces Elizabeth´s arrival. He gets up and takes his coat.

‘It was good talking to you, Neal. Why don´t you come over for dinner on Thursday, there is something I would like to discuss with you.’

Neal looks surprised but nods.

‘OK, text me the address and time and I will be there. ‘

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
